The Committee (An Inspirational Love Story) by Desiree Day

Author:Desiree Day [Day, Desiree]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Christian Books & Bibles, Literature & Fiction, Romance, United States, African American, Religion & Spirituality, Fiction, Contemporary, Religious & Inspirational Fiction, Christian Fiction
Amazon: B0050DDUU4
Published: 2011-05-10T04:00:00+00:00

Tyrell hovered over the pond, so close that everybody thought he would fall right through and onto George’s lap. “She reminds me of myself, when my mom left. She’s hurting, just like me, know what I’m saying? I’m going to talk to her,” he decided. And before anyone could say anything Tyrell was gone.

“He’s made contact,” Brett said, while watching a forty-something Black man push open the door to the nurse’s lounge.

“Yo!”

George lay on the bed with her left arm slung over her eyes. “Hey,” she muttered.

“Long night?” Tyrell busied himself with making a cup of coffee. Not that he could drink it, but it kept him from being nervous, not because this was his first trip to Earth in years, but because of why he had returned. He was doing work for The Committee.

“Not any longer than usual,” George grumbled.

“Yeah, it’s a crazy night. I heard that there was a five car pile-up on I-75 and a three person shooting in Downtown, the emergency room is crazy, and—”

George removed her arm and looked sharply at Tyrell. “Who are you? I don’t recognize you,” she said sharply.

Tyrell chuckled. “I’m new. Just moved here from Mobile, Alabama. I hope I’m not bothering you.”

“No you’re not.” George sat up on the bed. “I’m sorry, I just had an argument. I was rude to my boy—I mean friend and ran him off.”

Tyrell passed the coffee to George, she gratefully sipped it. “You can always apologize,” he offered.

“I can and I will, but I feel so badly, because he is the nicest man I’ve met and I was rude to him.”

“That’s okay. We’re all human and we have our moments. When you get a chance, check out Proverbs 16:32, it’s about controlling your temper. ‘He who is slow to anger is better than the mighty, and he who rules his spirit than he who takes a city’,” Tyrell quoted.

“Thank you, I needed that,” George said. “I had so many things on my mind, and when he tried to help, I just snapped. I know that isn’t an excuse.”

“You’re fine, just remember Proverbs 16:32 and take a deep breath when you feel you might snap at someone.”

George settled back on the bed, feeling calm and at peace. “So how are you liking Atlanta…” she stopped, suddenly realizing that she didn’t know his name. She pushed herself back up, and stared at him as though trying to memorize his face, in case she might be called on to be a witness for a line up. She noted that he was about six foot one, approximately two hundred pounds, shaved head and shades lighter than the coffee she was holding.

Tyrell noticed the way her gaze changed from friendly to suspicious, he chuckled.

“Hey, nothing to be scared about, my name is Tyrell Jackson.”

Just then the door opened and a tall, blond man walked into the room. “Tyrell,” he greeted, his voice curt.

“Doctor.”

Brett glanced around. “Sorry to interrupt, but I was looking for Janet, somebody told me that she was in the lounge.

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